


Words Unlike Any Other

by WiseBlondeHunter



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Car Accidents, Everyone Is Famous, Just Roll With It, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2018-12-09 17:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11673477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WiseBlondeHunter/pseuds/WiseBlondeHunter
Summary: Jason Grace, Manhattan's golden boy, is a renowned artist and a charming sweetheart to boot. Nico Di Angelo is a famous dancer and has no want for the politics of the high class world he lives in. Their lives literally collide and now it looks like Nico is stuck with an annoying blonde Superman who refuses to leave him alone.





	1. sonder

**Author's Note:**

> this has been a long time coming and i'm still not even close to finished. this is definitely a work in progress and i will probably change a lot about this story as it grows and i keep writing it. let me know what you think and any ideas or constructive criticisms are welcome!

**sonder**

**n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk**

 

 

Jason Grace was a bit of a star. His paintings were well-known and well distributed around New York and the surrounding areas. People absolutely adored his golden looks and his kindness. An inspiration for aspiring artists everywhere, he loved his fans and his fans loved him.

Jason Grace, renowned artist and New York’s favorite star, sat at his kitchen table wearing Superman footie pajamas and drinking coffee out of a SpongeBob mug.

_ It’s too early for this. _

“That looks a lot like gettin’ ready, Jase,” Piper McLean snarked, striding into the kitchen. His best friend wore nothing but a large t-shirt, probably one of his own from when they were in college. Her long legs were accentuated by the lack of clothing. She’d gotten many modeling offers but chose to stay behind the scenes.

One of her latest productions was a line of clothing for plus-sized women exclusively. The line that preceded that one was for women of color. There were a lot of stores who didn’t want to carry her products after that but she was never downcast about it. Taking it as inspiration instead, Piper was currently working on a gender neutral line that would also be inexpensive to make.

“Wanna help me load some canvases into the car?” Jason knew that as strong as he was, Piper was just as muscled. She agreed and slipped on some sweatpants. The canvases in question were made heavier by layers of paint. One of those paintings, a long and thin one, depicted the woman who was carrying it.  It was the first time that she ever tried a runway walk. The lights hit her perfectly and she saw all of her friends in the audience and couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.  _ She’s gonna be so pissed when she sees it,  _ he giggled to himself.

“You gonna change at the studio or go to the event dressed like that?” Piper asked him.

“Ah, it’ll be fine. I have my duffel in the back.” She said a quick goodbye to him and ran upstairs to get out of the cold. He watched her lean figure run back into the lobby, arms pulled in tight to fight the cold.

Piper was such a great friend; Jason was incredibly lucky to have her. They’d met by complete chance. Jason was in the infirmary in college for a sprained wrist when she walked in. Piper had been dressed in hand me downs and stuff from Goodwill but she was still stunning. She plopped down in a chair across from him, looking like she was about to pass out.

The drive passed quickly for him in silence. Thankfully, four in the morning was the only time that Time Square was deserted. The big screens still flashed and showed soundless advertisements but no one was bustling around. It was strangely silent and peaceful.

The City That Never Sleeps. Well... until the party’s over anyways. Then everyone catches a few winks and heads off to work or to a friend’s house or the grocery store or the library or school.

Millions of people, millions of lives, millions of different ways to live the day.

_ Whump _

“Oh my god!” Jason screamed, slamming on the brakes. A figure had darted out in front of the car, right in front of his nose, without him noticing.  _ Oh my god, I just killed someone. Holy shit, I just killed someone. _

Finally forcing himself to move, Jason stumbled out of the car and over to the person. It was a boy, no older than he was. His black hair was rumpled and his clothes were a little less than acceptable for the bitter cold.

_ Oh thank god he’s moving but he’s hurt and... Italian?  _ A string of curses came from his mouth, unintelligible to Jason’s ears.

“Are you okay?” The boy’s eyes turned on him and Jason shivered internally. The force of his glare was enough to make him want to physically step back. He shoved the feeling down and knelt next to him.

“Does it look like I’m okay? God this hurts!” he shouted. Jason was always prepared; he had a thought on the tip of his tongue at all times. His mind raced a hundred miles per hour and his reflexes were to be rivaled.

And he froze.

His mind was utterly,  _ completely  _ blank. He just stared at this boy on the street thinking  _ um um um  _ with his hands hovering over the black t-shirt he was dressed in. Those deep, dark eyes broke him out of his trance. And the cell phone that hit him in the jaw certainly helped.

“Call 911, stupid!” he growled. With fingers fumbling from the cold, Jason finally got word that an ambulance was on its way. The ball of anxiety in his chest unknotted as he got the boy into a sitting position. A rare moment of silence ensued in Times Square. An awkward one too.

“So... watcha doin’ up this early?”

\---

Jason was back in his car, this time free from distractions. Except for those black eyes that glared at him an hour ago. He offered to ride in the ambulance with him but the boy just glared at him and shook his head.

It was then and there that Jason made the decision to visit him at the hospital. He’d bring some flowers, a card, and pay for his bills. It was the least he could do after hitting him with his car right?

Oh god, he could try to sue Jason. Jason was popular enough, he didn’t need this scandal in the news. And it would also make him feel even worse. He’d probably just let the boy win the lawsuit so that he didn’t have to live with that guilt and so that the boy would feel better too.

“Um, Jason...?” He was already at the gallery. And still in his pajamas? Calypso (one name, like Rihanna) was staring at him with her eyebrows raised. She, of course, was impeccably dressed in navy slacks with a matching shirt and a white blazer.

“I have a change of clothes,” he said quickly, hefting up his duffel to show her. With her eyebrows still raised, she nodded.

“Do you have all of your pieces? We only needed four this time,” she asked. He nodded numbly and mumbled something about changing his clothes. Her wow-you’re-very-weird look turned into an amused one. After patting him on the shoulder, she chuckled, “Don’t worry, we’ll get you some coffee.” Calypso headed out into the cold morning to fetch the canvasses from his car, leaving Jason to get changed.

He shucked off his pajamas in the bathroom and put a suit on. When he came back, Calypso had somehow managed to get all four cavasses in and found some coffee for him. Jason plopped his bag on a chair and gratefully took the coffee. As the world around him became sharper, they made small talk.

Calypso was lounging a few feet away from him in a red armchair. “What’s new with you, Jason?” she asked. He shrugged, reluctant to mention the accident for some reason.

“How about you?” Calypso brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed. She was so breathtaking it was hard to believe. Her hair was the color of caramel and braided over her shoulder. Even though pieces of hair refused to stay in the braid it looked purposefully styled that way.

She was just about the sweetest person Jason had ever met and as mysterious as the Greek myth she was named for. No one exactly knew anything about who she was; she just kind of appeared one day. All of a sudden, art studios and galleries under her management were popping up left and right.

Calypso also had this way of looking at people as though she could see through them and she was kind of sad about what she saw. Jason still wasn’t completely sure that she wasn’t the Calypso from the myths.

“Octavian is hassling me again,” she said in her lightly accented voice. Jason scowled into his cup.

“Octavian needs to keep his nose out of everyone’s business.”

“Business is his forte, Jason,” Calypso said, scuffing her heels on the black tiled floor. “He’s a terrible artist but an amazing speaker. He’s been talking to the press again.” She rolled her almond eyes and shook her head. Although she was much too kind to say it out loud, Octavian disgusted her and it rolled off of her in waves.

“But let’s not focus on that today, hm? Today is a good day.” Calypso’s smile almost made him forget that he had hit someone with his car. Jason promised himself then and there that he would find that boy in the hospital and make it up to him somehow.

_ And do lots of groveling,  _ a voice in his head whispered. The voice sounded suspiciously like Piper.

\---

Jason didn’t end up going to Beth Israel until three days later. He felt terrible about not getting there sooner but life had just gotten in the way. And by life, Jason meant ‘not knowing which hospital the boy was taken to and then thinking that it might be kind of creepy showing up without warning but damn he was going to do it anyways.’

The nurse at the desk was looking as tired as he felt as she spoke with someone in business casual. “I’m sorry, no journalists, no paparazzi, no whatever you call yourself. Hospital rules.” The person slunk back to a chair in the lobby and started speaking with someone in low tones.

When Jason approached the desk the nurse gave him a raised eyebrow. “Hi, I’m looking for someone who was brought a few days ago, around five-ish in the morning. He would’ve been picked up in Times Square.” The nurse, whose nametag read Miranda, slammed a patient file shut, presumably the person who had the press breaking down their door.

“If you’re not family, he won’t accept you. And I  _ know  _ you’re not his family,” she said bluntly.

“Please, I really need to see him. I’m…” He looked back at the journalist in the lobby before continuing in a whisper. “I’m the one who hit him. He wouldn’t let me ride in the ambulance with him and I just need to see him,” Jason begged. The nurse raised her eyebrow again.

“You’re the one that hit him?” Jason felt his face heat up. He slowly nodded.

The nurse rolled her eyes and whispered, “291.” He was off like a shot as soon as the last number was out of her mouth. As he rode the elevator up, his mind raced. It was mostly thoughts of guilt for hitting him but there was also a general anxiety about meeting him. It was an odd feeling for Jason.

When he got there, he knocked on the door before entering and was shocked almost immediately. He now knew that it was at least an adult and not a sixteen year old that he had hit. The man was lying in his bed with a phone in his hand. He had a black brace on his right forearm and a cast on his left leg. His black hair was unkempt and his eyes… his eyes stabbed Jason in the gut, casting a chill over his whole body.

Nico Di Angelo was the person Jason Grace had hit with his car. He was unmistakeable.

“Oh, goody, it’s you,” Nico deadpanned, dropping his phone on the blanket.

“Um, yeah. Listen, I am so so sorry-” He held up his hand and cut Jason off. The look in his eyes was almost dangerous in addition to cold.

“I don’t care how sorry you are, I don’t care if you want to pay my bills. You don’t have to worry about a scandal; I’ve been keeping the press away for the past few days. Now if we’re done here.” With that last sentence, Nico picked his phone back up.

Jason had always heard the name Nico Di Angelo; he would have to have lived under a rock to not know who he was. They had just never directly crossed paths. Nico was a dancer, not an artist, but they still got invited to some of the same functions. Jason could remember seeing him out of the corner of his eye or sitting a few tables away or on the red carpet.

He started to go down the rabbit hole of thoughts of how crazy it was that you go your entire life being a bystander in someone’s life. Enter stage left, exit stage right, so fast that it’s almost imperceptible. Now that bystander had become a leading role and Jason didn’t exactly know how to feel.

With tremendous effort, he yanked himself back to the present moment and asked, “Are you sure?” Nico sighed and nodded, not taking his eyes off his phone. “Can I at least help you get home when you check out?” Those dark eyes flicked back up to him but something in them was different. For a moment, Nico almost looked uncomfortable.

“Fine. You put me here, you can get me out. Let’s go.”

\---

“Ah, shit!  _ Vaffanculo!” _

Nico sat in the passenger seat cursing every car that threatened to hit them. Jason supposed that getting hit by a car once would suffice for a lifetime.

Miranda the nurse had given Nico a long speech about proper care of his cast and set up appointment after appointment with doctors all over town. Not only would Nico be out of commission for at least six months, he would also have to go to physical therapy. Every so often, Nico would glare up at Jason like it was all his fault. It actually was but Jason didn’t see the need for him to glare every five seconds. The press in the lobby trying to get in on their conversation didn’t help either.

The car ride was awkward to say the least. Any attempts at conversation were met with rebuttals and Jason was just about at the end of his rope. His guilt hadn’t lessened but it was quickly becoming overshadowed by annoyance. At least the silence let Jason think some more.

If Jason was the golden boy, Nico would’ve been the shadow prince. Jason was bright and bubbly and soft; Nico was dark and somber and hard edges. That caused a number of socialites to drift towards him, intent on working out the mystery that he was. It also alienated the majority of them, causing scandalous articles and lots of snarky remarks in interviews.

The Di Angelo line had been cranking out notable people for generations, mostly artists in some way. Nico himself was a dancer. His mother had been an opera star, his father was the black sheep of his generation, going into business and building an economic empire.

It was interesting how much he knew about Niccolo Di Angelo just from hearing the name. At the same time however, no one knew anything about his personal life. What’s his favorite color? How does he take his coffee? What pair of pajama pants does he wear the most?

They finally arrived at Nico’s apartment building. A valet in front assisted with getting Nico his crutches and his bag. “Thanks, Grace,” Nico called over his shoulder.

“I’ll see you around?” Jason shouted.

“Yeah, whatever.”

Maybe it was guilt turning into obsession but Nico didn’t intrigue Jason the way he did other people. Sure, Jason was curious like everyone else but he also wanted to get to know him for friendly reasons. If he told all of this to Piper she’d say something like  _ you’re just too optimistic Jase.  _ He’d say something like  _ I’m not optimistic; I’m hopeful. _

That was precisely why when he returned home he ignored his roommates and retreated into the guest bedroom that doubled as his studio. He felt an urge, almost an itch in his hands, one that was familiar to him.

He practically threw a canvas onto his easel, eager to get the vision in his head onto something tangible before it disappeared. The dark paints that Jason owned were almost unused but he hunted them down, opened them up, and began to paint.


	2. liberosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm still editing everything and it's still pretty bad but i'm hopeful about where this is going! this is also my gift to myself for my birthday so i can feel productive. thank you guys so much for reading, it really makes me feel better about this story.
> 
> let me know what you guys think and any constructive criticism is welcome!

**liberosis**

**n. the desire to care less about things—to loosen your grip on your life, to stop glancing behind you every few steps, afraid that someone will snatch it from you before you reach the end zone—rather to hold your life loosely and playfully, like a volleyball, keeping it in the air, with only quick fleeting interventions, bouncing freely in the hands of trusted friends, always in play.**

 

“Man, Di Angelo, do you ever go home? They call me to fix these things so late because no one’s here.” The mechanic sat at the corner of the room, fiddling with an electrical socket. It was eleven in the evening. Nico just glared at the other man and he put up his hands in surrender. 

“I’m just asking. I’m actually going out with friends tomorrow, if you wanna come along.” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Nico rolled his eyes and moved to the sound system, intending to change tracks. “It’s gonna be me, my main girl Piper, Percy, Frank- whoa man, chill!”

Leo Valdez cut off in the middle of his run on sentence and rushed up to Nico. “Dude are you okay?”

Nico looked down at his hands where he clutched two broken CDs. He’d instinctively squeezed them.  _ Percy... Percy Jackson? _

“Here let me clean thi-”

“I’m fine.” His voice was as hard as ice and he could see Leo shrink back a bit.

“Are you sure-”

“Yes.” Leo backed up and slowly walked back to the socket. He didn’t speak to Nico for the rest of the time he was there.

There have to be other Percys. There just has to be, right? Nico shook his head and threw the CDs in the trashcan. Of course there are other people named Percy. He was just being paranoid.

\---

Nico had just finished a rep and was checking his phone. Hazel had been blowing it up for the past hour and he wanted to see what was so damn important. He was of course interrupted again by the annoying receptionist.

“You ever gonna go home? You’ve been practically living here for the past two days,” he said with a cheerful edge.

Will Solace doubled as the in-house medic of sorts. Nico figured the real reason he was there was to annoy the dancers that frequented the studio.

“Yeah, I will eventually. There’s just a uh...” Nico trailed off as he read Hazel’s text messages.

“A what?”

 

_ can you imagine how awesome this will be????? _

_ please please please please _

_ just this once _

_ neeks please _

_ i know you’re ignoring me bc i asked _

_ but seriously _

 

“... a showcase coming up,” Nico finally said. Will sauntered into the studio to peer over Nico’s shoulder. 

“Who’re you texting? Must be some lucky guy if he’s taking up this much of your time,” Will joked with a wink. Nico lightly shoved his shoulder and locked his phone.

“It’s my sister, stupid. Just go home, I have the keys.” Nico moved over to the sound system and fiddled with it for a moment, waiting for Will to leave. His blue eyes were sympathetic as he glanced at the clock mounted on the back wall.

“It’s already midnight, Nico. You gotta get some sleep, okay?” Nico nodded without turning. “Good night.”

Once Will was gone, the room seemed distinctly dimmer. Maybe Nico shouldn’t have been so callous towards him. He was just trying to be friendly. Were they friends? Maybe he was just like that mechanic, Leo something-or-other, who was just a sentient caps lock button. Maybe he just liked to hear himself talk.

Oh well, no use crying about it now.

Nico set back in front of the mirror and waited for his cue to come.

\---

It wasn’t until Nico exhausted himself that he finally stopped. He stretched again and very clearly felt that he was going to be sore the when he woke up the next morning.  _ Oh it is the next morning. Might as well grab some breakfast. _

Nico packed up his things and trudged over to the break room. While Nico toasted his PopTarts, his mind raced.  _ I have to text Hazel back and then catch some sleep and then work on that article and then and then and then... _

There was always something new lurking around the corner that required Nico’s attention whether it was an interview or a showcase or simply his sisters. Nico didn’t mind how busy he was; they provided nice distractions when he was left to think about his family or his past. What he did mind was that everything required so much dedication and so much effort due to how easily he could lose this life. If he could just care less about everything happening around him-  _ DING _

Well it was nice to think about but not very realistic.

Tuning back into the real world, Nico finally noticed what time it was. 4:07.  _ I guess it’s time to go home. I hope the station at 49th isn’t still under construction. _

The night air was chilly against Nico’s warm skin when he stepped outside. Even from two blocks away, the lights of Time Square were brighter than the sun and oddly appealing to Nico at the moment. He drifted towards them with his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his aviator jacket.

There was the occasional homeless person here and there but other than that no one was around. It reminded Nico of his hometown in Italy. It was a quiet place with not much to do but play in the backyard or visit downtown with your sister and buy gelato. Nothing like New York.

In New York City, everybody had something to do, somewhere to be. There wasn’t time for lazy summer days where you didn’t have a care in the world and the world was still.

The world was still now. Times Square was enormous without people buzzing all about it. Lights and billboards flashed and changed but everything was silent. People talking without sound, commercials going without music. It was so strange having an iconic place where protests, parties were held be completely silent.

Nico drank it all in, sitting in silence that was so rare in New York. He started moving again, slowly now, paying attention to how his feet sounded on the stones and soon on the street. He drank in the few moments of silence, reveled in them almost.

His peaceful moment was broken by the sound of screeching brakes and a pain so intense he almost passed out.

“Are you okay?”

Nico found himself unable to respond with anything but Italian, calling the unseen man every name under the sun. A face swam into view above him, illuminated by flashing billboards.

“Does it look like I’m okay?” Nico leaned more towards his left and bit down on a scream when he felt burning pain in his hip. “God this hurts!” The stranger just stared at him.

His pale eyes, washed out by the neon lights shining on him, roamed over Nico’s body. The man seemed to be frozen with panic. The bubble of anger in his chest grew larger and larger the longer the man just stood there.

Tired of seeing that man’s eyes, Nico fumbled around in his pocket with his left hand and felt around for his phone. He chucked it at the other man shouting, “Call 911, stupid!” He walked a ways away, talking on the phone. He couldn’t make out any words but could hear a definite stutter in his voice.

When he returned, he looked less panicked and more weary. The poor guy needed some coffee. “Here, let me help you.” The man approached him, hands up like he was approaching a startled animal.

One of his hands supported Nico’s back while he scooted towards the car, leaning against it. It was a tiring, painful task that left him covered in sweat. The stranger sat next to him and gazed over at him with a concern that he felt from two feet away.

“So...” he began, turning his gaze to the flashing signs. “Watcha doin up this early?”

If Nico could’ve moved his leg, he would’ve kicked him.

\---

Getting taken away by the ambulance was almost a relief. That other man had the  _ audacity  _ to offer to ride in the ambulance. Nico had simply glared at him; he was good at that. The EMTs in the ambulance inspected his arm. They had slapped a brace on it and announced that it was fixed. His leg was more complicated though.

He had to be brought in on a stretcher through the emergency room. “Oh my god...” “Isn’t that the di Angelo boy?” “How is he gonna dance now?” people whispered as he was carted past.

The pieces in Nico’s head clicked as he was wheeled down a hallway and into a room with a big complicated machine. Jason Grace. Jason Grace hit him with his car. If his arm was working, he would’ve smacked himself.

This is gonna look so bad in the morning.  _ Maybe I can keep the press away?  _ Nico thought as they wheeled him back out. People already treated Nico like a live bomb and now he gets hit by Captain America’s car? Now he’s gonna be like a bomb that already exploded and people are wondering how to deal with. He had a photoshoot for Piper McLean that he was supposed go to! And Hazel wanted him to walk in one of her shows again! How was he gonna do that now? Things could literally not get worse.

As the nurses moved him from the gurney to a bed, he shouted in pain. The pain brought him back into his body and he saw that not only was he bleeding profusely from scrapes all along his right arm but there was an odd bulge on his thigh where there shouldn’t be. The sight of it made him a little bit sick.

The doctor walked in and strode up to the edge of the bed. “Alright, this doesn’t seem to complicated, Mr. di Angelo. It’s a clean break. It’s gonna be easy to set. Are you ready?” The woman got all of this out in a rush and grabbed his leg, right above his knee.

She pulled down and Nico thought,  _ No, this is definitely the worst,  _ and the world went black.

\---

Waking up was a long and slow struggle but somehow Nico managed to blink away the bleariness in his eyes and focus. Everything in the room seemed too bright for his tastes. As he put a hand up to rub his head, he noticed that he’d had a black brace put on his left arm. The pain hit him all at once.

A dull throb every time he moved his arm, a sharp stabbing sensation in his ribs, and of course the searing pain that was his left leg. Nico’s entire left side was on fire and he didn’t much appreciate it. A passing nurse stuck her head in and smiled.

“You’re awake! Let me get the doctor for you!”

The doctor was the same woman from the previous night (morning?) and she was holding a clipboard this time.

“How are you feeling, Mr. di Angelo?”

“Terrible.” The doctor smiled at him kindly. Her nametag read Dr. Knowles and for some reason, she reminded Nico of the receptionist at the studio. He really needed to diversify the people he interacted with.

“That does tend to happen when people get hit by cars. Luckily, this one was moving a relatively slow speed and hit only your left side. You have a few fractured ribs and your wrist was dislocated but I’m afraid your femur was the one that took the brunt of the damage.” Dr. Knowles pulled an x-ray off her clipboard and held it up to the light. It showed Nico’s leg but his femur was cracked neatly in two. “You also have some fractures on your pelvis but those are pretty minor.” Nico sighed and rubbed his temple with his right hand. Of course. Great. Wonderful. This is exactly what he was hoping for in life.

“Is there any way I could get my phone? I need to call my sister.”

“We’ve already notified next of kin. Your father is on his way and I have no doubt that he notified your sister as well.”

Oh. My. God.

Nico forced a small smile onto his face and thanked the doctor. She excused herself, saying how he needed to rest. As soon as her footsteps faded down the hall, the nurse from before stepped in.

“I come bearing gifts!” she said with a smile brighter than the doctor’s. She set a brown paper bag down on the chair next to his bed. “These are your clothes, your wallet, everything that you came in with. And I also have this!” She held out his phone with a proud smile.

The nurse was tall and willowy but she looked young. Her auburn hair was tied back in a ponytail and her green scrubs had “Juniper” written on them in curly writing. She blushed a little bit as she handed him his phone.

“I also brought pain meds!” With a quick press of a button next to his IV, he started getting sleepy. It was almost like magic.

“T… thanks, Juniper,” he mumbled. Juniper went bright red and nodded eagerly as he passed out for the second time in a row.

\---

_ bzzz bzzz bzzz bzzz _

“Hello?” Nico grumbled into his phone.

_ “You’re in the hospital?”  _ Hazel’s voice was like a dog whistle: probably didn’t hurt much to other people but felt like ice picks in his ears.

“It’s a long story, Haze...” Nico mumbled, dragging a hand down his face.

_ “Well you’ve got time, don’t you, cher?”  _ she asked, her creole accent coming in strong.

“Aren’t you back yet?” he asked her.

_ “Nico... I’m in N’awlins until next week...”  _ It was impossible to miss the scrutiny in her voice.

“What day is it?”

A single sigh was his response.  _ “You haven’t seen Ethan or Luke or any of them have you? Please tell me you haven’t.”  _ At the moment, with a fractured shin and a broken wrist, he kind of wished he had. But he had a relatively good idea of right and wrong that day. So no.

_ “I’ll see you soon, okay?”  _ Nico wished her goodbye, realizing that he never answered her question of what happened to him. She didn’t need to worry about it anyways. Her concern was touching but his old crew wasn’t something she should’ve brought up. He left them behind.

Still...

Whenever he saw a slim boy with dark hair or passed a woman who smelled familiar his heart stopped with fear that maybe they had the balls to seek him out again.  _ Maybe... _

Was it really a coincidence? Hazel had heard stories recently and now the mechanic talking about Percy...

_ Oh shut up, Nico. Percy’s not that uncommon of a name. _

But it still bothered him for the rest of the day.

\---

For three days, Nico lived in peace. Although he had his phone, no one else called or texted save for his father who said he’d be down within the next few days. The sponge baths were a little weird but Nico figured he could live with that. Miranda, the woman who worked at the front desk, even promised to not let anybody in unless it was his father or Hazel.

When Jason Grace appeared at his door, he made a note to change the flower arrangement he was getting for her; now she was only getting a dozen instead of two dozen roses. “Oh, goody, it’s you,” Nico spat. He dropped his phone on his sheets with impatience.

“Um, yeah. Listen, I am so so sorry-” Nico could see where this was heading. He wanted none of it. No, scratch that. He didn’t  _ need  _ any of it. He didn’t need money, he didn’t someone trying to get in his good graces, and he didn’t need any Captain America coming to his rescue.

Nico held up his hand and said, “I don’t care how sorry you are, I don’t care if you want to pay my bills. You don’t have to worry about a scandal; I’ve been keeping the press away for the past few days. Now if we’re done here.” The man fumbled and seemed to deflate a little bit. His blue eyes stared at Nico curiously as he walked further into the room, opting to hover awkwardly by the bed rather than at the door.

“Are you sure?” Nico sighed and nodded. Jason Grace can go play superhero with someone else; he’d played this game before and wasn’t interested in another round.  “Can I at least help you get home when you check out?”

_ There’s no such thing as a free lunch,  _ Nico reminded himself and then reprimanded himself for thinking that. He stared up into those blue, blue eyes and thought. He thought about Leo and Will who were just trying to be his friend. Plus this guy was offering a ride so he wouldn’t have to take a cab or the subway.

“Fine. You put me here, you can get me out. Let’s go.”

\---

After struggling up to his apartment, Nico let himself reflect on Jason Grace. That boy was such... a weirdo. There wasn’t a better word for him.

He was built like a Greek god with a hero complex that could’ve rivaled his namesake’s (So he was a bit of a history nerd, sue him). In the brief time that they’d been together, Nico found himself wanting to get to know him more. It was an odd feeling to say the least. 

Maybe... Another time, another place... he was attractive to say the least and kind to boot. Maybe...

Nico’s phone buzzed as he hobbled into the elevator.

_ Ring ring, real life calling _

Maybe if he just didn’t pick it up...

Nico sighed as he answered his manager’s call, not really listening to whatever it was she had to say. His mind was elsewhere, maybe in Times Square, maybe in a too bright hospital room with too bright blue eyes staring him down and a too loud voice speaking words that fired him up.

Nico had a lot of maybe’s in his life recently.

Unfortunately, a broken femur was not a maybe. It was a definitely. And it  _ definitely  _ hurt when Nico looked at it in the mirror when night fell. His leg was throbbing with pain but his heart was throbbing with anger.

Stupid Jason Grace, stupid art shows. Nico knew he sounded like a petulant child but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to dance and go Piper’s photoshoot and now even modeling for Hazel seemed appealing.

He looked at the brace on his wrist and then at the cast on his leg, filled with animosity for Jason Grace and his stupid, stupid art shows.


	3. opia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this took so long! i just moved to college and im still getting settled. im still not too sure about the quality of this but i decided that this cant just sit forever, you know? let me know what you guys think, i welcome any constructive criticism!

**opia**

**n. the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable—their pupils glittering, bottomless and opaque—as if you were peering through a hole in the door of a house, able to tell that there’s someone standing there, but unable to tell if you’re looking in or looking out** .

 

Three months had passed in Nico’s life without incident. His cast was removed two weeks prior although he still used crutches. He was weaning himself off of them, of which he was very proud. It was a nice three months.

Then Hazel showed up one day pounding on his door looking ecstatic.

“What is it, Haze?”

“You sound like you’re not happy to see me, sugar,” she drawled.

In actuality, he was overjoyed to see her. Her visits were less frequent since she started picking up a bigger fan base.

She stepped inside his apartment, waving a piece of paper in his face. It was easy to do since they were practically the same height. “Lookie what I managed to get!” she squealed.

Nico grabbed the paper and read it. It was an invitation to... one of Jason Grace’s stupid, stupid art shows.

“Hazel!” he groaned. “This is the guy who hit me with his car!” Hazel folded her arms across her chest, pouting.

“But Piper McClean is gonna be there!”

Piper was an innovator in the fashion industry: clothes specifically for women of color, she created affordable, cute clothes for plus sized women, and rumor had it she was working on something completely new.

Piper was about as socially liberal as you could get. In all honesty, Nico looked up to her too but for different reasons. To be blunt, Piper was gay. She was gay and successful and loved. And those were terms Nico was having a hard time connecting together.

Nico was out, he'd been out for a while, but he was forced out. He'd briefly dated someone who, when the relationship ended, retaliated by outing Nico to the public. Nico wasn't ashamed of himself anymore. He had just wanted to come out on his own.

“So are you coming with me or am I gonna have to fly up to Canada and grab Frank?” Hazel stared Nico down with her golden puppy dog eyes.  _ God, I can't say no to that face... _

“Fine.”

“Fantastic! I have a suit in the car and I can do your hair and I picked up more foundation at Sephora so we don't have to run over and...”

_ What did I get myself into? _

\---

“Nico, if you're not down here in two minutes, I'm comin’ up and gettin’ ya!”

Nico was too busy staring at himself in the mirror to notice her words. The suit that Hazel gave him was custom made. It was black of course but the bow tie he wore was dark blue with little galaxies printed on it. It hugged him just right and he actually felt confident in how he looked. It was a rare thing.

“Nico!” He snapped back to the real world and sped downstairs. “Where's your jacket?” Hazel asked. She looked stunning in a black dress to match him; her jewelry all held little galaxies within their stones.

Nico held up his arm with the wrist brace on it. “I could barely get the shirt on, let alone the jacket!” he laughed. He'd opted to keep his vest and just roll his shirt sleeves up to his elbows. Hazel rolled her eyes and gestured to the door.

“Jules-Albert is outside,” she said.

“Haze... I'm a big boy.”

Hazel reached up and tapped him on the nose. “I know you are. But Daddy sent him over.” That caused a devilish smirk to appear on Nico’s face. “Oh no...” Hazel started, recognizing that look.

“Oh yes!”

He grabbed her by the wrist and led her downstairs. They ran by the car their father sent and into Nico’s black Lincoln. As they sped away, Hazel leaned out the window and waved at Jules-Albert. She giggled as she leaned back in the car, her hair escaping it's carefully styled twist.

Nico reached over and pulled the comb out of her hair. It bounced free back into its natural Afro. “Nico!” she gasped.

“You look so good with your natural hair. You should wear it like that more often.”

Hazel didn't say anything, she just rolled up the window. She was silent for the rest of the ten minute ride. Nico felt bad about bringing it up. He'd asked her once before why she doesn't wear her hair like that more often.  _ “Models don't have Afros, Nico. Designers don't have Afros. Nobody in the fashion industry has Afros or cornrows or anything like that.” _

Nico usually left it alone. He didn't mean to bring it up again. They parked and Hazel started to head inside when Nico caught her arm. He quickly pulled her into a hug and kissed her cheek. “I mean it when I say that your natural hair is beautiful. Piper will like it,” he whispered. She grinned and headed for the building.

_ Oh that's right...  _ Nico had forgotten why he went in the first place.

Jason Grace and Piper McClean.

At one point, they'd been Manhattan’s It couple. They were the new, younger Brangelina. Then Piper came out and Jason came out and everyone freaked out and the new news story was about finding Piper a girlfriend and Jason a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend. Apparently he wasn't picky.

Nico’s thoughts were quickly occupied by the art inside the gallery. Jason Grace might be a bit strange in Nico’s eyes but his art was amazing. Hazel fawned over it, discussing it with other patrons. Nico mostly stood by her side, sipping on a Diet Coke he'd hunted down.

Eventually, the event became more about socializing than appreciating the art. Nico wasn't at all interested in that, not that night.

He wandered off, perusing the paintings in corners of the gallery no one had found. All of the bright colors surrounded him and lit up the gallery. But one corner was significantly darker than the others.

It was the profile of a man, drawn in hard lines and sharp corners.  _ Oh my god... It's me. _

The portrait was done beautifully, Nico couldn’t deny that. The colors were dark but Jason had managed to instill life in the painting, making him look less like a corpse. He leaned closer, careful to keep his drink far away.

 

_ Jason Grace _

_ Untitled _

_ Acrylic paint on canvas _

_ 60.69 cm x 60.69 cm _

 

There wasn’t a price tag on the bottom like the other paintings. A strange feeling snuck into Nico’s chest. He abruptly leaned back, throwing his Diet Coke down his throat. He really wished he had something stronger.

“Do you like it?”

Nico whirled around to see the one and only Jason Grace standing there. Now Nico had dated artists before and they always picked him up with cheesy one-liners and their confidence alone. Jason just... stood there. Waiting for Nico’s opinion.

Other artists at Jason’s level would’ve just assumed it was good; he stood there, rocking back and forth on his heels, waiting to hear if Nico liked it or not.

All he could do was stare. Jason awkwardly coughed and averted his eyes. “If, uh... if you don’t like it... I can take it down. It’s not for sale so...” He stared down at his shoes, cheeks turning red.

“No, no... I- I like it, trust me. You did a uh... a good job.” Nico mentally slapped himself.  _ A good job? Captain America fucking painted you and you say that he did a ‘good job’?  _ Jason, however, glowed at the praise. He seemed to get what Nico meant without him having to say it. Their eyes connected and Nico felt comforted and that he wasn’t as awkward as he originally thought.

“Jason! There you are!” A slim Asian woman ran up to Jason, linking her arm through his. She looked stunning in a deep red dress and heels so high that Nico’s feet hurt just from looking at them. She was a very beautiful woman and, had Nico been straight, he probably would’ve been staring. It was painfully evident that Jason couldn’t care less about this woman though.

“Oh,” he said as if just realizing she was there. “Nico, this is Drew Tanaka. Drew, this is-”

“Nico di Angelo, I know,” she sneered. “Strange that the two di Angelo children are here tonight.” Nico perked up at that. No one addressed Hazel like that. Could it be that...?

“What do you mean two?”

“Not your runaway sister. The illegitimate one. She’s over there conversing with that Gardiner girl. Terrible choice in friends if you ask me.”

Nico’s hand tightened on his glass. Katie Gardiner was a perfectly wonderful person. Hazel was his family no matter what anyone else said. Bianca wasn’t some worthless runaway. It was hard to keep a poker face but he did, with barely a twitch in his jaw. Jason didn’t.

“Drew!”

Drew shrugged and rolled her eyes. “What? I’m not saying anything that isn’t true!” Nico strode forwards, shoving his glass into Jason’s hand.

“Thank you for the invite, Mr. Grace. I’m afraid I have other business to attend to,” Nico said, channeling his father.

He heard Jason call out for him and reprimand Drew but didn’t turn around. Hazel was talking to Piper McClean, all starry-eyed. He caught her by the arm and whispered, “I have to go. I’ll call Jules-Albert for you.” Hazel stared at him with worry in her eyes but he was gone too fast for her to say anything.

\---

The cold air blasting in through the open window combined with the air conditioner didn’t do jack shit for the heat boiling underneath Nico’s skin. He had managed to distract himself but the memories came rolling back.

Bianca leaving in the middle of the night, no more than a shadow. Finding Hazel completely on accident in New Orleans, a poor girl who was a shadow herself. His own time with the darkness way back when...

His thoughts drove him towards his studio. Will and Rachel, the owner, had joked on more than one occasion that Nico himself should run it with how often he was there. He supposed he could; he had his own key and more than enough money to buy it for however much Rachel wanted.

He left the lobby lights dark and the door unlocked, opting to use a studio at the very back so no one would know he was here. Of course, if Hazel came looking for him, it wouldn’t be very hard to figure out where he was.

Once inside, he practically ripped his bowtie and vest off, throwing them in a corner. He could apologize to Hazel later; he was just so furious.

Nico slammed the sound system on and picked a song at random, throwing himself into the rhythm of stretching. Unfortunately, the monotonous movement let his mind wander.

He knew people looked down on his family; that was nothing new. Socialites snubbed him and tried to get a rise out of him all the time. It made conversations with those genuinely interested in Nico a bit awkward and stifled. Those like Drew viewed him as inferior or as a side-show.

_ Haha, look at the small child with a shitty past! I’m so glad that I grew up rich! Now let’s go drink champagne made out of solid gold and fan ourselves with $100 bills! _

Nico sighed and unbuttoned his shirt, fanning himself with his one good hand. After rolling up his pants and removing his shoes and socks, he was good to start dancing.

People said that dancing was hard but for Nico it was second nature. He always chose songs with prominent bass lines turned up high. He just loved feeling the vibrations of the bass in his chest, he couldn’t describe how it felt. Maybe like someone’s heart beating next to his own.

He danced until the playlist started over again and he was drenched in sweat. He stopped in the center of the studio and quickly realized he wasn’t alone.

“Man, Grace...” Nico panted, moving towards the sound system, “If I didn’t know better I would say that you followed me here on purpose. Sure you’re not lost?” Jason shook his head and pushed himself off of the doorframe he was leaning against.

“No, Hazel told me where the studio was. She’s a nice girl. Great artist too.” Nico straightened up and stared at Jason. He was standing at a respectful distance, close enough that Nico could’ve reached out and touched him but far away enough that he didn’t feel crowded.

“She showed you her art? She’s usually very self-concious about it.”

Jason shrugged. He coughed into his hand and averted his eyes for a moment. “Look, about what Drew said earlier...” Nico held up a hand and stopped him.

“It doesn’t matter. People say those things to me all the time.” A dark shadow passed over Jason’s face, marring his features for a bit.

“You shouldn’t have to get used to hearing them,” he mumbled.

Nico started buttoning up his shirt, suddenly acutely aware of his bare chest. “Yeah, I get you. I wish people didn’t know so much sometimes. I don’t really like thinking about her,” he said, quieter than Jason had said his piece. “Bianca, I mean,” he added, answering the unspoken question in Jason’s eyes. “It’s just kinda... hurtful I guess when people bring it up. But it sucks even more-”

“When they get the story wrong,” Jason finished. A hint of sadness appeared on his face. In that moment, looking into Jason’s blue eyes, that he had his own traumatic backstory. While Nico’s was on display, his was a hidden despair which was almost worse.

He felt like spilling his life story to Jason. He felt like talking about the ache in his chest Hazel would never really fill or how much he missed his mother or the night terrors he used to get. They were staring each other in the eyes, not saying anything, not moving. It was oddly intimate.

_ Oh my god Nico change the subject say something say anything oh my god you’re just standing there _

“So! Are you hungry?” he blurted.  _ Well... it’s something.  _ If Jason was startled by Nico almost shouting the question, he didn’t show it. If anything, he smiled and nodded. “Wanna uh... grab something?” That dazzling smile grew bigger.

“Where do you want to go?” Nico shrugged with a million possibilities running through his mind. Jason didn’t seem like the type for high class places but what if he thought Nico was a slob if he picked somewhere more casual? “I know this really good Italian place!” Jason said suddenly. Nico snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Not to discredit you but most ‘good’ Italian places aren’t really good. I’ll show you real Italian food next time. How about French food?”

“Y’know what I’m craving actually?” Nico raised an eyebrow as he shut the lights off and started towards the front. “McDonald’s.” Nico could’ve laughed out loud. He almost dropped his keys. Jason wanted McDonald’s? Well... okay then. Jason looked at Nico, waiting for approval, nervous about his decision.

“Relax, Grace. My dad’s a millionaire but I still eat McDonald’s. Honestly, I should get some sort of frequent flier points.” Jason laughed at that. He practically lit up the dark street with that alone. They hopped into Nico’s car and he peeled off towards McDonald’s.

_ Don’t worry Nico... just a casual eleven o’clock dinner between two business associates. Yep. Super casual. _

But Nico had a hard time ignoring the way that his heart skipped a beat whenever Jason laughed at something witty he’d said.


	4. chrysalism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is where it ends for stuff i had already written so we're back to cranking out new stuff. i really appreciate the criticism and notes i've received so far! thank you to those who have given me feedback and kudos and bookmarked it. you guys are what really keeps the story going. let me know what you think!

**chrysalism**

**n. the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words are unintelligible but whose crackling release of built-up tension you understand perfectly.**

 

 

_ hard at work again? more paintings of me? _

Jason looked at his phone and chuckled. He and Nico had been texting nonstop since their encounter (date?) after his last gallery showing. It had been three weeks since and the two had become so close in such a short amount of time that it was kind of jarring.

The last question in his text referred to when Jason had told Nico that the painting of him at the gallery wasn’t the only one he made. There were at least three others that he was too bashful to show the public.

_ Maybe. It’s a wip _

Nico sent back the smirking emoji. So Jason might’ve loved painting Nico more than anything else. So what? This one was a charcoal sketch of Nico driving his car. He’d spent the last hour getting his hair right. The boy just had so much of it.

“Leo! He’s drawing his boyfriend again!”

Piper’s voice burst his bubble and his hand skidded across the paper. He glared at her, though it was only half-heartedly. She giggled and the sound was like wind chimes.

“We’ve been calling you for forever! C’mon, dinner’s ready.” She whirled around, causing the charms and beads in her hair to rattle obnoxiously. He couldn’t fathom how she put up with that all day.

Dinner that night was prepared by Leo which meant the best enchiladas Jason had ever tasted. Their dining table was tiny; they had to squish together. None of them minded. They were too close to mind physical space any more. In fact, Jason and Leo were often mistaken for a couple because of how casual they were with each other. Leo liked the attention and whenever they were asked about it would drape himself dramatically over Jason, crying about unrequited love.

One person was missing from their small party though. Reyna Arellano was sitting in a chair by the fireplace with papers spread on the ottoman in front of her.

“Reyna... Reyna...” Leo called. She kept her steely gaze on the papers. Piper took the bundle of fake flowers from their centerpiece and chucked them at her.

“Rey! Dinner’s getting cold!” she called. Reyna rolled her eyes and walked over to the table. It seemed as though Reyna was never out of business casual. Although, being the CEO of a security company will do that to you. You always have to be ready to run to the office. “You’re gonna end up killing yourself one day, Rey. You need to take a break,” Piper said through a mouthful of cheese.

“I think you can agree that we’re all workaholics,” Reyna deadpanned.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Piper smirked.

“Hey, remember that one time that Leo shut himself in his workshop for four days? I had to give him food through the mail slot,” Jason laughed. Leo mockingly threw him a glare and opened his mouth to retaliate before Jason’s phone buzzed.  _ Saved by the bell... _

“Okay, that’s weird...” Reyna slowly said, looking at the screen. She grabbed it and held it up for the other two to see. Jason could’ve sworn that Piper was about to explode from holding in her laughter. He lazily swiped the phone back from Reyna and answered the call, putting it on speaker.

“Hello, Octavian,” Jason drawled.

_ “Grace. How are you?” _

“I’m just fine,” he answered with an eye roll. Octavian was a wild card, better to be civil than risk something happening. “How are you?”

_ “I would be better if it wasn’t for you hogging all the galleries in New York.”  _ Piper giggled at that. Octavian was a  _ terrible  _ artist but an excellent businessman. He remained hostile towards Jason for reasons that he couldn’t quite figure out.

Reyna piped up, “Well, I’m sorry that Jason is a better artist than you, Octavian. If it helps, you’re a better entrepreneur.”

Leo leaned close to the phone. “Not nearly as handsome though.”

No answer on the other end. Jason could only imagine the look on his foe’s face. It was probably bright red and hilarious to look at. Maybe even funny enough to make a caricature out of.

Octavian’s next words were clipped with anger:  _ “Listen to me, Grace. I’m going to make you an offer. Keep your artwork out of  _ my galleries _ and I won’t let your little side relationship with the di Angelo kid become a big scandal. I’ll even be sure to issue an express warning to my bodyguards that he’s not to be messed with.” _

Jason barely twitched but his roommates noticed. Piper’s eyes went wide and Reyna, if this was even possible, grew more grim. All of his roommates treated his budding relationship with Nico delicately; no one really knew what to think of him but they supported Jason nonetheless.

Leo glossed over the awkward silence with a snarky comment followed up by a jab from Piper. Jason suddenly cut them off: “Well, as always, it’s been fun, Octavian. Good night.” He practically slammed the red button that ended the call.

Jason stared hard at the marble tabletop. Why was he getting so angry at Octavian? There wasn’t anything there, no scandal, no relationship... He and Nico weren’t mutually exclusive. They hadn’t even discussed it.  _ Everything he said and your mind goes straight to Nico? _

A gentle hand touched his shoulder and he jumped. Piper’s prismacolor eyes bored into his with a strange intensity. “You okay, Jason?” she asked quietly. He cleared his throat and straightened up.

“Yeah, Pipes, I’m all good.” He shoved the plate of enchiladas away from him and excused himself from the table.

He didn’t quite understand the flurry of emotions in his chest as he flopped onto his bed. Amusement that Octavian would try to threaten him again. Comfort from his friends and their support. Affection for Nico. Loneliness from not having a real relationship or someone to call his own. (A figure of speech of course, Jason would never own anyone.)

Jason opened his messages and hovered over the keyboard, debating what to say to Nico. He decided on the safe route: send nothing at all and go to bed.

\---

_ you up yet? it’s like noon _

It was the third text from Nico that day. Reyna announced as much when he received it. Jason was standing on their balcony with Piper, munching on apples they had found at the farmer’s market, when Reyna shouted from inside.

“What do you want me to say? Oh, he’s calling!” Jason whirled around and darted back inside.

_ “Hola? Quien es estes?”  _ Reyna asked. She was in one of her more friendly moods evidently. Jason tried to snatch the phone away. “Nico di Angelo right?” she asked. A devilish smirk emerged on her face, a rare sight when it came to Reyna.

Jason finally got his phone back and breathed, “Hello?” A small chuckled came from the other line. Jason could see Nico’s half-smile perfectly. It would’ve taken his breath away if he had any to spare.

_ “Hey. I was just wondering what you were doing. You didn’t answer any of my texts so...”  _ Reyna, who was leaning close so she could eavesdrop, gave him a confused look. He averted his eyes away from her gaze.

“Um, yeah... I was just working on a new piece. Actually, do you wanna grab lunch?” A brief pause.

_ “Sure. I’ll text you the address.”  _ Nico hung up. It didn’t offend Jason in any way; Nico was just typically brusque.

Reyna tried to ask him about Jason’s reluctance in texting Nico back but he quickly brushed her off, saying he had to go meet Nico. In reality, he wanted to talk to her and spill his feelings like he was in an 80s romcom. He just had to sort through those feelings.

Last night, when Octavian had called his friendship with Nico a scandal, it made him angry for some reason. He didn’t just insult Nico, he also insulted Jason's feelings for him. No matter if Nico didn’t feel the same way; Jason still cared about him.

Jason was probably right too: Nico didn’t feel the same way. Sure, he was out but that didn’t guarantee anything. They didn’t even have a relationship. They had a friendship. Flirtationship? Whatever it was, they weren’t exclusive. They hadn’t even discussed it. They’d discussed just about everything else though.

Nico was witty and funny, no matter how hard he tried to hide it. He was also intelligent. From all he knew about history it was likely that he had a degree. Maybe he was just a history buff.

Some oil paintings were so old and had been painted over so many times that you could physically peel back the layers. That’s how it was with every conversation with Nico. Jason just yearned to know more.

He got his chance to know more that day in fact. He just blew it.

When he and Nico met up, Jason was still noticeably fidgety. Of course, his date(?) noticed right away. Nico’s eyes were transfixed on his burger when he asked, “Why are you angry?”

Jason’s first instinct was to blow it off and claim that no, nothing happened, just because I practically shredded up my napkin doesn’t mean anything’s wrong, no, I’m not angry, my face is just always this red.

Nico beat him to the punch though.

“Spare me your bad acting today, Grace. Something’s up.” How was it that Nico always managed to see right through him?

Jason coughed lightly and said, “My acting is great. I’ve managed to trick Leo more than once.” Those black eyes finally flicked up to his face for a moment before settling down again.

“You’re avoiding the subject.”

“Just some business stuff. Octavian Acerbi-”

“That little white boy has no right to an Italian name,” Nico interrupted. His hand went instinctively to the cross that hung around his neck. It had never occurred to Jason what Nico’s upbringing might have been. He supposed that, growing up in Italy, he would’ve been raised Catholic. Jason himself didn’t really identify with anything; his family never brought it up.

Nico brought his hand back down to fiddle with his own set of napkins. He looked back up at Jason as he said, “Besides, if it was just business, why are you so upset?” Jason rubbed the back of his neck as he explained it all. When he reached the part where Octavian threatened him, Nico slammed his hand down on the tabletop.

The intensity in his eyes scared him. He wasn’t shouting but his voice was definitely raised. “He has no idea what he’s talking about. Does he know who I am? Does he know who my friends-” Nico turned bright red and forcibly shut his mouth. His hands returned to his lap; he looked almost contrite. “Sorry. I got kinda... carried away.”

“No, keep going. What friends?” Jason had never heard Nico mention anybody else. Well, except Hazel. He got the impression that Nico didn’t have many permanent people in his life.

He adamantly shook his head and looked away. Everything about Nico was screaming  _ “Change the topic!” _ but Jason pressed on. He was finally going to get a glimpse into the other, more private side of-

“I said it’s nobody. Just drop it.”

Jason’s excitement dropped and so did his understanding of boundaries. “C’mon, Nico. Just tell me,” he pressed. A cold glare was thrown his way.

“It’s none of your business, Jason,” Nico said. The hardness in his voice and his face was obviously well rehearsed; he wasn’t budging on this. Jason sighed but let the issue go.

Cue awkward silence.

Piper would no doubt come up with some soothing comment and redirect the conversation. Leo would come up with a snappy retort. Reyna would move the conversation in a direction she liked. Jason just sat there. He couldn’t think of anything else to say. He was ready to bury himself in the remains of his napkin when Nico spoke up.

“Hey, I uh... I just don’t really like talking about them so...” Jason looked back up to see his date(???) fingering the ring that sat on his index finger. This one was a plain silver band inlaid with small black stones.

Jason took a leap and reached out, placing his hand over Nico’s. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a soft smile. Nico looked at their hands, up at him, and back again but he didn’t make any moves. His face was unreadable so Jason took another jump of (blind) faith.

“Since you talked about yours, can I do one better and introduce you to my friends?”

\---

_ Stupid stupid stupid stupid you almost fucked everything up! _

Nico was cursing himself while Jason ran to the bathroom before they left the restaurant. Dredging up that part of his part was strictly off-limits, even to Hazel. Just thinking about his “friends” was enough to make him sick but thinking about someone threatening Jason almost inspired the same feelings.

Then and there, Nico promised to himself that he would never involve Jason in that part of his life. No one deserved that, least of all Jason. Those gloomy thoughts all but disappeared when the other man returned with a 1000 kilowatt smile. “Ready?”

The subway ride was a bit longer than he was used to but neither of them minded. It just gave them more time to be alone together.

“Wow, the Upper East Side? You’ve been holding out on me, Jason,” Nico quipped as they got off the subway. Jason chuckled a bit, knowing that it was all in good nature.

Jason had found that he could count on Nico to be straight up with him. There had been people in his life that would have been serious when it came to that comment, people who would have been jealous of his success or wanted more than he was willing to give in terms of material goods. Nico didn’t hold Jason to any expectations, not anymore at least.

He was seized by a sudden anxiety. Jason had remembered that Nico didn’t like being around lots of people and Jason’s loft wasn’t the biggest.

“So I think there were a couple of people coming over for dinner tonight so there might be a lot of people and I don’t want you to-”

“Jason,” Nico interrupted. “If this is about me not liking people, it’s fine. I’m sure I’ll like them if they’re your friends.” The corners of his mouth turned up but his eyes grew warmer, his whole face lighting up. It helped Jason feel how genuine he was being in his assurances; they walked on.

There was loud laughter that floated out of the door as soon as it was opened. “Hey, look who it is! Tiny Dancer, how are you?” Leo shouted from across the room. Nico was taken aback as he took Leo in.

“Um, I didn’t know that you and Jason were friends.” Nico leaned back as Valdez threw an arm around him. He noticed that something smelled burnt but then again something always smelled burnt around Valdez.

The next few minutes were a whirlwind of names. In reality, it might’ve only been six people but it felt like an entire crowd to Nico. The last one stopped him dead in his tracks. “Nico, this is Percy Jackson. Jackson, this is Nico.”

Those green, green eyes stared him down and all he could do was stare back. It was like he was seventeen again with his house getting raided by FBI agents and a SWAT team and handcuffs getting slapped onto his wrists and seeing his friends being led away into a van followed by a hospital room and a rehab center and those green eyes visiting him with endless questions and meaningless reassurances.  _ “Your sister… missing… so sorry… your recovery… staying here for a few more weeks.” _

Percy’s face started to turn down into an expression Nico knew very well: pity. Pity for him and for his family and for countless other things. Nico simply stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you,” he said. Nico hoped his face was sending the message he wanted to convey.  _ This is an olive branch. We can start over. _

Percy grasped his hand firmly although the sadness remained behind his eyes. Nico always assumed that Percy felt guilty about Bianca going missing, failing him, and a dozen other things that happened with that mission. He just wanted to never remember that time in his life.

“We were just about to have dinner. Are you joining us?” Piper asked. Nico shrugged, not really feeling up to conversation anymore. Jason leaned over and grabbed Nico’s shoulder.

“Sure, he is!”

Dinner was a casual affair. They were spread out among the table and couches and chairs, plates balanced on their knees. Music was playing from somewhere in the apartment but laughter rang out from every corner. At first, the conversation was about Nico but they all seemed to pick up on his reclusive nature. He appreciated it. Not many people willingly pulled back when the first met him.

One by one, they all left to their respective apartments. Jason’s roommates retired to their rooms and left them in the living room. Nico itched to clean up the plates he and Jason had carelessly placed on the table but Jason soon distracted him.

“Wanna watch a movie? I just got some new thrillers.” It was late but… that was Nico’s favorite genre.

“Okay. Just one. Then I have to get back,” he said. While Jason picked out the movie, Nico took the liberty of cleaning up the plates. When he got back, Jason had thrown open the curtains.

Rain was falling in sheets across the city. It was oddly beautiful.

“How does The Sixth Sense sound?”

“Sounds like a classic.” Nico plopped on the couch, surprisingly tired. Social interaction always did that to him though; he would get exhausted from a conversation. Jason sat down next to him. Close, but not too close like always. He just seemed to understand Nico’s boundaries without any words.

The movie was a great one but Nico couldn’t pay attention. He was listening to the whooshing sound of the rain and sinking into the couch. He shifted over to lean against Jason and let his eyes close. Every clap of thunder didn’t startle him but rather echoed his heartbeat.

Nico slowly drifted off into dreams filled with blue eyes and loud laughter and rain.


End file.
